la chanson de ma vie: Clam Beach Challenge 5K

I went into this race with no expectations. Just one week after SOB, I really didn’t want to set myself up for disappointment. Sub in a week of hiking and constant activity for the recovery I should have done, I knew it would be tough to do well. The course is also our club’s hilliest 5K. Here were my goals: run hard and be happy with whatever came, ~~but secretly, I’d be disappointed in myself if I couldn’t break 25:00~~. Tanya is the race director and promised me throughout the entire SOB race last weekend that her course was accurate (ending race distance: 3.11 mi. YEAH!!).

Photo credit: Y.Kim, SRRC.

The cool thing about this race is that awards are based off of the RRCA time tables and participants get colored award pins based on their performances within national standards. Of course, I’m sure not all of the national data includes the trail or hill that this race adds in just for fun.

I stood sleepily in the signup line. “You look like you’re sleepwalking,” Cindi remarked. “Yeah, I’m still pretty wrecked from last weekend,” I replied. It wasn’t so much the race that wrecked me, but the lack of rest following it. I only showed up to get another race for the circuit, hopefully a 1^st, 2^nd, or 3^rd in my AG. And being a club member, it was free, as most of the local races are!! It would be silly to NOT run it then, right?

Then we were off. A tight pack of runners dashed off ahead of me, the weaving and crashing began. Two young kids tripped and nearly fell over. I sped off ahead so I wouldn’t end up in a pileup. Matt and I warmed up on this stretch of the course and I dragged the entire time, but now I was flying! I was breathing hard from the very beginning and really didn’t know if I’d have to walk part of the hill. This hill is often seen at about mile 12 of all of our 20 mile runs. I know this course so well, where it dips down and climbs back up. I also knew how to pace myself to the top of the hill.

First mile: 7:10.

Looking down at my watch, I immediately knew that was too fast. I dashed up the hill at the fastest pace I could handle. My lungs gasped for breath and my heartbeat echoed through my head. I was determined not to walk any of it, so I slowed to something the same effort as “near death”. I never push myself as far as to puke like some do, so you could say I’m not giving it my all, but oh well. This ended up being the only place I passed people on the course. Several stopped just short of the top to catch their breath, vomit, or tumble over into the grass. Yikes, people.

The leaders passed on their homeward stretch and it was nice to have a bit of distraction while I watched and cheered them on. Halfway and about the highest point on the course, a familiar face cheered me on. As soon as I turned around and headed along a flat area, I was surprised at how quickly I recovered. That was pretty sweet. I cruised down the biggest hill and found it difficult to speed up any. It did help recover my mile split a little bit though.

Photo of the view from the top of the hill. This is my picture, but from a different day.

Mile 2: 7:50.

The last mile, I focused on keeping myself together. It felt like the downhill portion sped up my turnover enough to get into a bit of a groove that I somehow managed to hold for the final mile. I remembered my long runs on this trail. So many different weather conditions: rain, hail, snow, brutal wind. This is definitely one of my favorite places to run long.

Mile 3: 7:15.

Suddenly, the finish line and clock came into view. I was surprised to see that it had just ticked over to 22 minutes. I was already pretty exhausted, but I ran that last tenth of a mile on the remaining fumes. And as I passed the finish clock, the red glow revealed my new PR.